Refractions of Light
by ShadowDanseur
Summary: Brennan and Booth try to deal with the aftermath of her kidnapping. Sequel to "Don't Cry Out".
1. Observations of an Artist

**_Author's Note: Alright, so this is the sequel to _Don't Cry Out._ If you haven't read that one first, then this one probably won't make much sense. Just as a heads up. Anyway, I just had to write a sequel, there were too many things to deal with. :) I'm trying to keep Brennan in character while at the same time showing a side of her we haven't seen, so hopefully it comes out well. Let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome, of course. :)_**

**_Disclaimer: NOT MINE! Don't sue._**

**_Spoilers: None. Nada. Negative._**

* * *

Angela loved being an artist. She loved being able to see something in her mind, and then make it come out on paper. She had traveled the world, and seen and been inspired by some of the most beautiful sights the world had to offer. Still, in all her conquests, she had never seen anything quite as amazing as the sight before her.

Someone else might find the sight of two people arguing unsettling. Admittedly, if it were anyone other than Booth and Brennan, Angela would have had to fight the urge to break it up. The fact was that it was Booth and Brennan though, and she saw their arguing for what it was: a fit of passion.

One of these days she might have to run her ideas by Sweets and see what he had to say. At the moment, she was perfectly happy sitting in the doorway of her office, sketch pad in hand. Booth and Brennan were on the forensic platform, arguing about God only knew what. From her vantage point Angela could only hear the intonation of the words, rather than the words themselves. Not that it mattered to her any; her pencil flew across the paper as she sketched.

Architecture was beautiful. Oceans, rivers, mountains, all of them were awe inspiring. None of those things touched her like the sight of her two friends, arguing passionately over something that may or may not matter. The thing that struck Angela was that they could be arguing over something as mundane as where to have lunch and they would still be this passionate about it. Their passion wasn't for fighting, it was for each other. Angela knew that, on some level, they both had to realize that, so why they continued to fight it was a mystery.

Well, she could understand Brennan's side of it. Quite simply, Brennan was afraid. After everything that happened to her, Angela didn't blame her for that fear. Deserted by her family, left to fend for herself in the system … what example of love had she been given? Still, if there was one man who could restore her best friend's faith in love and family, it was Booth. Angela respected the agent more than she let on, perhaps, but she admired the man. Sure he could be an asshole, but he had many redeeming qualities. One of which, of course, was how absolutely _delicious_ he looked.

She focused on the pair in front of her, then down at her paper and back again. Despite the fact that they seemed to be at odds, the two partners were standing remarkably close to one another. Booth was leaning toward her in what would have been an otherwise formidable stance, but Brennan didn't seem to notice. She was leaning in as well, her eyes and her voice sparking with intensity. Their faces were separated by a mere two or three inches. If one of them were to take just one more step forward … but no, they had that ridiculous "invisible line". Angela wanted to snort in derision. The only line they hadn't crossed yet was the physical one, and she was pretty sure that it was only a matter of time before that one got crossed too. Truth be told, she was ready to practically shove them over that damn line.

Angela tried to catch a snippet of their conversation, but she had no luck. They seemed to reach a stale mate then, because their arguing had stopped. They were standing in their same spots, but had leaned away from each other. The artist could still see her friend's mouth moving, so she knew they were still talking. Her curiosity was piqued; what on Earth had those two been arguing about this time?

* * *

"You are the most frustrating woman I've ever met!" Booth nearly yelled at her

"No, I'm just the only one you can't win over with your charm!" She shot back

"First of all, Bones, I do not 'win over' anyone with my 'charm'. Second of all … no, you know what? There is no second of all. You're just being a sore loser."

"I'm sorry?" She retorted, putting her hands on her hips

"You're just mad because I figured this out without you. That, and that the sheriff argued with you, and then turned out to actually know what she was talking about."

"That's ridiculous, Booth, and you know it!" She tried to keep her voice down, although she knew it to be a lost cause

"Then what is it, Bones? Something pissed you off."

"You know what pissed me off?" She replied, her voice suddenly acidic, "What pissed me off is that you and I are partners. We may not agree on everything, but we at least listen to what the other one has to say. Not this time though. This time you were too damn busy trying to get the sheriff's phone number to even listen to what I had to say!"

Booth wanted to fire off a retort, but found that he didn't have one. He thought over his actions the last few days, analyzing each action in a different light. He was more than a little perturbed to find that there was truth in his partner's accusations. He had been trying to impress the pretty sheriff, several times at Bones' expense. Truthfully (although he would never admit it aloud), the only reason he had shown interest in the sheriff was because it had seemed to annoy Brennan. Not one of his finer moments, he knew, but she always got to him. The slightest action and she could get under his skin, both in an irritating way and in a more tender way. For once, he had just wanted to get under her skin. Disrespecting her, however, he had not meant to do.

"You're right, Bones," He stated calmly, "I was wrong. I apologize."

For a moment she looked taken aback, as if she had expected him to argue with her. He watched her as she silently weighed his apology, checking his sincerity. Then, after some moments and apparently reaching the decision that he had been sincere, she dropped her arms to her sides. Her face, which had started to flush red in anger, took on a more tender expression then.

"Thank you," She said softly

They stayed where they were, watching each other from across the small gap that spanned the area between them. Booth watched the crimson fade from her cheeks, leaving them a pleasant pink instead. He wanted to say something more, to once again ask what was truly bothering her, but he knew that if he did there would be another fight. Lately, they seemed to be unable to find the middle ground between them. They were either getting along wonderfully, or arguing heatedly, as they had been moments ago. Granted, they got along for the most part. Only now, if they were arguing, they were fighting. Down and out biting each other's heads off.

Disagreeing was not an uncommon thing for them. He knew that. The uncommon thing was the change he felt in their relationship, a change that had been nagging him ever since Bones had been released from the hospital. Conner Swenson was in a mental institution for the rest of his life, yet in many ways he was still there, between them. Every time Booth tried to broach the subject, however, Bones was quick to shut him down. Recently, they had started arguing about trivial things, things that reminded him more of lovers' quarrels than he wanted to admit.

That thought struck him. They certainly weren't lovers; in fact, except that one kiss in the hospital, nothing more had happened between them. Well, nothing more physical anyway. He wouldn't deny that he felt more … connected wasn't the right word. He had always felt strangely connected to Bones. Maybe it was fair to say that he was just more aware of it now.

Bones moved away from him, going back to what she had been doing before their little argument. He stayed where he was, watching her as she went. Trust his Bones to go through something horrific and then go right back to work like nothing had happened. He couldn't understand how someone could be that compartmentalized, even her. She dealt with it the only way she know how, undoubtedly, but he worried about her. Everyone had a limit.


	2. A Revelation

**_Author's Note: Alright, chapter dos! Let me know what you think ..._**

**_Spoilers: None._**

* * *

A great peal of thunder interrupted her reverie. She glanced away from the depths of the tea cup in her hands and in the general direction of the interruption. She didn't mind rain storms; in fact, she found the reverberating clap of thunder comforting. She could remember being a little girl, and gluing herself to the window to watch the lightning tear apart the sky, angry because her parents wouldn't let her go outside.

Brennan glanced idly at the clock in her living room. The time read four twenty six a.m. She sighed in resignation. Despite the three weeks that had gone by since she was released from the hospital, she still had yet to sleep through an entire night. She could be so exhausted she'd be falling asleep standing up, but it didn't matter. She'd fall asleep easily enough, but a few hours in she always woke up in a cold sweat from her nightmares. She'd dream that she was back in that room, but as a helpless bystander, watching while it was one of her friends strapped to the table. The worst, however, was when she'd dreamed that she had been strapped to the table while Parker was strapped to another one, and she'd had to listen to his screams as his flesh had been cut away. She hadn't slept at all the next night.

At first, Brennan had fought against the dreams. She'd berated herself for seeing these things, these irrational and useless variations on the truth. She'd reminded herself of all the other times she'd been in a life and death situation and never had this problem. None of that had worked. Still the dreams came, invading her sleep and haunting her when she was awake. Finally, she had just begun to accept that the dreams came, and that soon enough they would go away again. Until that happened, she had merely taken to staying up when the nightmares woke her. She'd gotten a lot of paperwork accomplished in the wee hours of the morning, when other people were sleeping.

Tonight had been another Parker dream. This time, though, he had come to her when Earl - Conner- was cutting the flesh from her leg. He'd stood on his tiptoes to whisper in her ear to be strong, that his daddy was coming to save her. He stayed there, standing next to her, and continued to whisper encouraging words in her ear until she'd awoke with a start. Half asleep still, she'd glanced at the space next to her bed and had half expected to see Parker standing there.

Brennan was thankful when another clap of thunder interrupted her train of thoughts. She did not like thinking about her nightmares. Sleeping or awake, they bothered her.

She rose from her position on the couch and made her way to the kitchen sink, where she dumped the remnants of her tea. She was out of paperwork to do, and she could already tell that if she stayed where she was she would merely turn to brooding. Nothing useful could come of that, so, logically, her only choice was to get ready for the day.

* * *

_She was in a small room, alone. Her leg hurt and was bleeding, but she could find no wound. The room was completely empty, lit only by a lone bulb hanging bare from the ceiling. She was standing, but had no recollection of getting up. Slowly, because her leg pained her, she made her way to the door. There was a small window cut into it, but when she glanced through it all she saw was blackness. _

_She felt the panic threaten. She was alone, with no idea where she was or even could be. Nothing seemed to exist outside her room. She knew it did, that there had to be more, but she couldn't see it. Suddenly frantic, she began to pound on the door. She could feel her fists connecting with the unmoving metal, but they made no sound. She was confused, and terrified, and quickly becoming desperate. She called out her partner's name; to her relief, the sound bounced off the walls and back to her. She called his name, over and over, as loud as she could. She continued to beat on the door, willing it to move and give way beneath her fists. _

_A voice came to her then, the voice of a young boy; it seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, enveloping her. "He'll come for you," the little boy promised, "He'll always come for you."_

"Booth!"

Brennan shot bolt upright, flinging herself unawares into something both firm and pliable. Not fully awake and coherent, the contact both surprised and frightened her. She tried to pull back and away, but found herself caught. Out of reaction, her muscles tensed for the fight.

"Bones, it's me."

Three words, spoken in a voice that immediately soothed her soul. Awake and now fully aware of her surroundings, Brennan found herself held tightly against the broad chest of her partner. Knowing herself to be safe, she took a deep breath to steady herself, but did not move. For several moments they merely stayed that way; he was seated beside her on the couch in her office, and she had her head buried in his shoulder. Both of his arms were wrapped gently around her midsection, holding her to him.

Finally, after what she was certain was several minutes, she pulled away from him. When she looked into his face, she saw something alien playing across her partner's handsome features: fear. That expression, so out of place on her brave partner, unnerved her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked softly

"I got here a few minutes earlier than usual. I was coming to drop off the report for the case, and when I came in I saw you sleeping on the couch. I was just about to leave when you started muttering something. I sat down to wake you up and you just … yelled my name."

"I yelled your name?" She asked, licking her dry lips

He nodded. "Were you having a nightmare?"

She didn't want to talk about nightmares. She didn't want to think about the images that played in her mind whenever she fell asleep; but this was Booth. Her friend, her partner, her …

"It's not a big deal, Booth," She assured him

"Not a big deal? Bones, you were terrified. I saw it on your face, heard it in your voice."

"I don't normally cry out."

"Don't normally …? Bones, do you have a lot of nightmares?"

This conversation was not going the way she wanted it to. She had scared him, and he didn't really even know what was going on. Telling him about her nightmares, even admitting that she was having them would only worry him. After everything they had been through recently, he didn't need any more cause for worry. Then again, this was Booth - undoubtedly, he would not let her rest until she told him. She was at a crossroads: should she just dismiss it, or answer his question?

"Temperance."

Unaware that she hadn't been looking at him, she glanced up at the sound of her name and straight into his fathomless eyes. She owed it to him to be honest, didn't she?

"I have nightmares every night," She said easily, calmly, "Well, every night since they let me out of the hospital."

"Every night? Is that why you're sleeping in your office?"

"No, I came in at about five thirty this morning. I didn't sleep well last night, so I figured I'd just lay down for a minute. I didn't intend on actually falling asleep."

The afghan that had been covering her was twisted between her legs, proof that she had been thrashing in her sleep. That, too, was normal these days. She was beginning to think that she'd never get a full night of restful sleep again. Sighing, she arched her legs and started to untwist the blanket. Booth didn't move from his spot next to her on the couch.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked quietly

"They're just nightmares, Booth," She said sternly

"Nightmares that are robbing you of your sleep. You're exhausted, Bones, and you can't deny it because I can see it."

She glanced at him again, but made no reply. She was exhausted; her body ached from the lack of rest. She had been hoping that no one would notice, that she could just keep pushing through it. A fight she was losing, she knew, but she had to keep going. She had work to do, crimes to solve. She couldn't afford to be weak.

"I want you to go talk to Sweets today when he comes in," Booth said firmly then

"What? Absolutely not, Booth."

"Don't argue, Bones."

"Don't be asinine," She shot back

"Either go talk to Sweets or accept the consequences."

"Consequences? I'm not nine years old, Booth."

"Really? Cause you're acting like it right now."

She narrowed her eyes at him and was about to fire off a retort when she caught herself. This was how it started; this was how they always ended up fighting lately. A calm, even tender moment would suddenly turn into an argument for no reason. Why was this happening? Why did they keep fighting like this? The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him - his idea might be irritating, but he was genuinely trying to help. He was concerned about her well being - why was she trying to refute that?

"I'm not going to see Sweets," She said then, calm again

"Then I'm taking you home right now and you're going to bed," He stated simply

"What? There's no use, Booth, I'll just …"

"I'm taking you home, and you're going to sleep. If you wake up …"

"It's not an 'if', it's a 'when'," She interrupted him

"Fine, _when_ you wake up, I'll be there."

"And what about work?" She challenged

"I'll bring the paperwork with me and finish it while you're sleeping. There isn't much left anyway."

"And what about the lab?" She wasn't going to give in easily

"You're taking a sick day. They can do without you for today. If someone wants to argue that, well, point them in my direction."

She said nothing. He really wasn't going to let her get past this one. She either had to go talk to Sweets, or he really was going to take her home and put her to bed. She hated the idea of missing a day of work, but she was not going to go see Sweets. Besides, she really was exhausted. Maybe, just maybe, her partner's presence would help.

"Fine," She acquiesced then, "But you have to go tell Cam."

"Consider it done."


	3. A Moment of Need

**_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews everyone! Glad you are enjoying the story. Alright, so here's the thing - this chapter is shorter than the others, and I'll tell you now that it's mostly fluff. Basically, I am having a terrible week, and my husband isn't here to comfort me. So I thought I'd write part of that into the story. Besides, I love fluff. :) Anyway, tell me if you like it or not. Enjoy!_**

**_Spoilers: None. _**

* * *

The first hour went by rather peacefully. Booth had brought Bones home and made sure she went back to bed. She had tried to fight him one last time, but her argument was hollow. She was tired, and it showed right down to the way she walked. He made sure she was comfortable, shut off the lights and closed the door halfway to give her some privacy.

Fifteen minutes later, when he'd gone back to check on her, she had been fast asleep. She didn't snore, so he'd had to poke his head in the door to check. When the light touched her face, she didn't even flinch. Knowing that he shouldn't, that he should close the door again and walk away, he'd stayed in her doorway for several moments. Bones was always going somewhere or doing something, that brilliant mind of hers always working on some puzzle or another. Now, seeing her so at peace and tender, threw him for a loop. Despite her wild intelligence and hyper rationality, her black belt in karate and her independence, Temperance Brennan was still a woman. A very beautiful woman that had seen many horrors in her life; a woman with a tender heart and a lot of love. She was also a woman with a breaking point.

He had no idea how long he'd been standing in her doorway. He considered it entirely possible that he could have continued standing there, watching her, for the better part of the night. That was not the case however; she began to stir. Little movements at first, and then she started to thrash. He glanced at his watch; she had slept peacefully for a barely an hour.

Torn between what course of action to take, he stood there for a few more moments. Then, when her thrashing hadn't stopped, he made his choice. He went to her side of the bed and very carefully sat next to her, on guard in case she flew at him again. Gingerly, unsure of her reaction, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Bones."

He said her name softly, perhaps to softly. Then, quite suddenly, she stopped moving. Her brilliant blue eyes flew open and connected with his instantly. Before she could stop it, before she could hide her face or look away, she was crying.

Booth was powerless. Her protests be damned; she needed him, needed comfort, even if she would deny it with her last breath. Automatically, he put his other hand on her other shoulder and gently pulled her up, against him. She uttered no protest, however; she was pliant against him, wrapping her arms around his chest when she was close enough.

Time was an abstract entity then. He had no sense of its passing, and he didn't care. He would hold her for as long as she needed him too, the rest of the world be damned.

He felt her breathing change as the tears slowed, then stopped altogether. She made no effort to move; he tried not to think about how well she fit in his arms. The thought was not a new one - he had decided long ago that no other woman in his life fit into his arms the way his partner did. When she had been taken, he had been haunted by the notion that he might never again know the feeling of holding her.

"Seeley."

The sound of his name, his first name, being uttered in the still sleep thickened voice of his partner nearly made him shiver.

"I'm here, Tempe."

He'd meant to call her Bones, like he always did, but all that came out was Tempe. The moment felt so intimate: the two of them sitting on her bed, in the dark. He glanced over her shoulder at her alarm clock; it was nine thirty in the morning, but in her room it was dark as midnight. He'd made sure all her windows were covered so that the light didn't bother her.

"I can't sleep," She muttered against his shoulder, "I'm so tired."

Booth knew that he should consider his next course of action carefully. He also knew that this was not a time to analyze, but a time to act. He knew what to do.

Keeping her cradled against him, Booth shifted on her bed. He was careful to kick off his shoes, and then he pulled his legs up onto the bed. Slowly, so that she could stop him if she panicked, he laid down on the edge of the bed next to her. She did not protest or stop him; rather, as soon as he stretched out and laying comfortably on his side, she scooted closer. Despite the blanket between them, she was pressed against the length of his body, her forehead tucked against his chest.

Unaware that it was happening, his eyes closed in perfect contentment. He could die tomorrow and be happy with the knowledge of what it was like to hold Temperance.

Several indeterminable minutes later, Booth fell asleep.


	4. Two Bodies, One Soul

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the gap between chapters. Apparently my muse decided to indulge in a nice vacation to Bora Bora, leaving me positively bereft of ideas for how to proceed. Anyway, the little snot came back finally. I have no idea why, but I have had terrible nightmares since I was a teenager. They come and go of their own free will, although I used to have them every night. For some reason, when I met my husband the nightmares went away. Now, I still have them but only when I can't spend the night with my husband. So anyway, I decided to use that. Let me know what you think._**

**_Spoilers: None._**

* * *

Perhaps the truest testament to her utter exhaustion, Brennan was refusing to let herself analyze the situation. She could feel the thoughts scratching at the back of her mind, like an eager puppy trying to get into the house. She ignored the sensation. Right here, right now, she was going to be selfish. She was going to take what she needed.

Waking up in Seeley Booth's arms was everything she had tried so hard not to imagine. Waking up in the arms of a lover was always a pleasant sensation for her. Waking up in her partner's arms was terrifying in its perfection. All the reassurance conveyed in his hugs was nothing compared to actually spending time in his arms. Laying there, in her bed and wrapped in his arms, Temperance Brennan had never felt so … whole.

She had slept peacefully. Not one nightmare had interrupted her sleep, nor had she woken in a sudden terror. When she had opened her eyes, the first thing she had seen was her partner's chest. In all the time that she had been asleep, neither one of them had moved. She could tell from his breathing that Booth was asleep, but his arms were still holding her as surely as they had been when he was awake. She had curled against him at some point, her forehead resting against his chest. She was not accustomed to such behavior; normally when she woke in the arms of a man, she was turned away from them. Then again, this was not like those situations. They were not lovers; she had turned to him for comfort.

The scientist's voice in her started to whisper something, undoubtedly some fact or conclusion that would send her mind into a frenzy. She pushed the voice away, silenced it with startlingly little effort. She simply was not going to listen. Instead, she focused on remembering.

When she had woken in that hospital, she had not been fully in charge of her faculties. Still, she could remember with perfect clarity the way that Booth had kissed her. Their first voluntary kiss. A monumental thing for them, she knew, but it hadn't been until later that she'd really felt its repercussions. When she had told Angela, even explained it in an uncharacteristically tender way, the other woman had not squealed with joy like Brennan had thought she would. Instead, and most alarmingly, Angela had begun to cry. Seeing Brennan's utter bewilderment, Angela had laughed through her tears and explained.

"Conner Swenson may not have known about Parker, but I don't think it would have mattered even if he did."

"What? I don't understand. The death of a child, especially your own child, is …" Temperance began

"I know, Bren. But it was never that man's intention to actually kill Booth. He wanted to torture him, to destroy him. Just listen, okay? No interrupting with scientific mumbo jumbo, sweetie."

Temperance only nodded.

"Parker means the world to Booth. Anyone and everyone can see that. But, for whatever the reasons, Rebecca has already taken Parker away from him. Not fully, obviously, but she dictates when Booth gets to see him and all that. So Booth knows that pain, he deals with it. There's already a wound there. Other than Parker, what is the other constant in Booth's life?"

"The FBI," Brennan responded easily

For a moment, she thought Angela looked almost annoyed.

"No, sweetie, it's not the FBI. It's you."

"What?"

"When you say that you and Booth are partners, you are right in more ways than you apparently realize. Booth is the alpha male in your life, and you the alpha female in his. Think about it, Bren. Who do you spend your time with? Who do you talk to about matters close to the heart? Well, on the rare occasions that you talk to anyone but me, anyway. The two of you share your lives more completely than you know. Your bodies may not touch, but you are as connected as two people can be. When he kissed you, that was not the kiss of two lovers. That was a kiss between two halves of the same soul; had you died, Booth would have been dead as well. Not literally, but the part of his soul that is yours would have been gone forever. The only thing that man would have had to live for would have been his son. Do you see?"

She hadn't answered immediately. She had rolled Angela's words around in her mind, contemplating, reliving the moment in her mind and trying to connect the words to the pictures. When she finally spoke, it was slowly and almost tentative.

"I'm not sure I fully grasp what you're saying," She began, then hurried on, "But I think I understand what you are trying to convey."

Angela smiled in her patient, kind way and nodded slightly.

"I've never seen him so torn, Bren," She continued, "I've never seen a man so close to breaking."

A soft noise pulled Brennan from her thoughts and back into the present. Against her, Booth shifted slightly and stretched his legs. Sometime during her reverie, he must have woken; she had no knowledge of how long she had been lost in thought.

Unwilling to extract herself from his arms, she merely raised her head to look at him. He was watching her, but she could tell from his face that he hadn't been awake long. His brunette hair ruffled, a barely awakened Booth was more endearing then Brennan wanted to admit. Here, in the safe cocoon they had made themselves, he was not haunted. He was not an agent or a sniper, he was simply Seeley.

"No nightmares?" He asked gently

"No," She replied quietly

"Good."

"What time is it?"

"Just barely eight," He replied, "You slept for about nine hours."

"You didn't?"

"I slept off and on. I'd wake up every so often, make sure you were okay."

"Thank you."

For a few long moments they said nothing, but neither one looked away. His arms were still around her, and she felt no guilt in admitting to herself that she didn't want him to let go. The rational side of her brain said that this was wrong; the frightened girl hidden in her heart warned that she was letting him to close, that he was getting in too far. The sensations she was feeling now did scare her in their scope, but she reminded herself that this was Booth. This was the man who had come for her, the man who had helped hold her together when she felt like she was going to fall apart.

She must have been staring at him, because they had never lost eye contact. Slowly, soothingly, he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

"Are you hungry?" He asked softly, his thumb brushing her cheek

"Yes."

She missed the comfort of his arms the moment they were gone. She tried not to think about it and instead set about extracting herself from the blankets and stretching. Demonstrating just how well he knew her and what she needed, Booth slipped quietly from the room to give her some space. She felt infinitely grateful for him at that moment, grateful that he knew her so well.

She closed the door behind him, then moved to her drawers. She pulled out her favorite pair of pants, a tattered and faded pair of blue jeans that she loved too much to throw out. She thought about putting on a tank top, then changed her mind and threw on a pale blue tee shirt.

Just as she went to open the door, a strange thought occurred to her. No matter what, her relationship with her partner had changed. Slowly but surely, they were crossing that invisible line that they had been so careful to avoid. There was no way for them to turn back, but there was still time to stop it. They could draw a new line, mark new boundaries and reinforce the walls they had left standing.

She drove the thought away and opened her door. She padded her way in sock clad feet over to Booth, who was already in her kitchen. He had pulled various pots and pans out of her cupboards; when she glanced questioningly at him, he smiled.

"Do you like spaghetti?"

"You know how to make spaghetti?" She asked

"Yes, Bones, I know how to make spaghetti," He shot back, feigning a hurt look

"Would you like help?" She offered

"Sure. Why don't you put some music on, and then you can keep me company while I astound you with my cooking prowess."

That garnered a laugh from her. Her iPod - which had been a gift from Angela - was connected to the stereo in her living room. She considered what she wanted to listen to for a moment, but couldn't make up her mind so she put it on shuffle. She turned the volume up slightly, then rejoined Booth in the kitchen.

Although she normally had reasonable arguments about why people should not sit on their kitchen counters, it just seemed to fit the situation. She found a spot on the edge of the counter that Booth wasn't using and hauled herself easily onto it, crossing her feet at the ankles.

The question of whether or not Booth could cook had never occurred to her. She had never seen him cook, and the kitchen in his apartment seemed ill equipped for the task. Watching him now, however, she was mildly surprised to find that he was at ease with the task. He moved deftly, certain of every ingredient he added. Before long her apartment smelled of hamburger and meat sauce, and only when her stomach growled audibly did she realize just how hungry she was. From his spot not far from her, Booth laughed.

"It won't be much longer," He told her

True to his word, Booth was dishing up a plate of spaghetti no more than fifteen minutes later. He had refused to let her serve herself and had instead insisted she take a seat at the table. He brought her the plate and silverware first, then produced a glass of ice water and a beer from her fridge. She was about to protest, but at a glare from him decided to just say thank you instead. She waited for him to get settled before eating.

"This is delicious, Booth," She said appreciatively in between bites

"Thanks, Bones."

"This may even be better than my macaroni and cheese," She said sincerely

"Definitely not," He laughed

"Why don't you cook more often?"

"I don't know. I guess I just don't like cooking for myself. Besides, the kitchen in my apartment is a little on the small side," He teased

They fell silent then, and Brennan allowed to let her mind wander again. She refused to focus on just one thought, instead letting her mind drift from one thing to the next. She took note of the song playing, the smell of the food in front of her and the crackling sounds her stove made as it cooled. Not so long ago she had been terrified that she wouldn't live to enjoy these things again. She had been certain that she was going to die strapped to that table …

"Bones." His voice was soft, worried. She glanced away from her plate and up into his face, a face that she had seen a million times.

"I can still see his face," She whispered, "I can still feel that metal table beneath me sometimes. If I just let my mind wander, it always goes back to that room. That shouldn't happen - I can compartmentalize, I can …"

"Temperance."

She hadn't realized that she'd started to ramble, hadn't realized that he'd closed the gap between them and was now kneeling down beside her with one hand on her arm.

"There's only so much a person can handle. You've seen and been through so much, more than anyone should have to."

"I feel like I'm breaking," She barely muttered

"And that's okay. You can't keep everything locked away, Bones. You have to talk to someone, whether it's Angela, or me or even Sweets. We're all here for you. You're not going to break - I promise. And even if you did, I would be here to help put you back together."

The sincerity and selfless love that she saw shining from his eyes was all she needed. She had expected some sort of revelation, perhaps, a sudden eye opening event that made her see what Angela had been talking about. Instead, the knowledge came easily, quietly but with certainty. For her, there was no turning back and there was no line. Rather, there had been a line, and she had crossed it long ago. She had fought like hell, denied it and discredited it with so much fervor that she had been blind to the fact that it was too late. Seeley Booth was her partner, her alpha male, her very heart and soul. He was everything she had never hoped he could be.

"Come on," He said gently, helping her to her feet, "They say you can't catch up on sleep, but we're gonna try. Go back to bed - I'll take care of the dishes."

He made to move away from her, but she grabbed his wrist before he could. For just a moment, she doubted herself. She could see the questions in his eyes.

"Stay with me, Seeley."

Her voice was so soft she was certain that he hadn't heard her. The look on his face, however, told her that he had. He looked surprised, maybe even a little unsure. She refused to let herself feel foolish for asking, refused to let herself look away from his face.

Then, without a word, he took her by the hand and lead her to the bedroom. Dishes forgotten, she followed willingly.


	5. An Uncommon Link

**_Author's Note: I really debated over whether or not to follow this road for my story, but in the end I decided to give it a shot. I wrote this chapter pretty quick, so please forgive any typing errors you might find. I read through it, but I have been known to miss one or two things here and there. Also, I want to say thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I'm glad that you are enjoying the story. Anyway, here's the next chapter!_**

* * *

The ease with which they fell into the new rhythm sometimes surprised him. When he thought back, back to before Conner Swenson, he could remember the times he would look at his partner and wonder. He'd wondered how he would feel if things ever changed between them. He wondered if he would feel nervous, or anxious, or any other number of uncomfortable feelings; he had wondered if it would be some dramatic event, with monumental repercussions. As it turned out, it was nothing of the sort.

The first time Bones had asked him to stay he had been too shocked to speak. The second time he had been unsure, even felt a little guilty. Bones never showed her vulnerable side, not if she could help it. Seeing her standing there and asking him to stay the night with her - again - he was afraid of how she would feel in the morning. He was afraid of seeing the scientist emerge, afraid of hearing her explain in that detached way that him staying with her was not intimate and had no meaning. Had she said anything of the sort, he would have denied her request. No matter what she felt, this was intimate to him. Spending the night with her, lying in her bed and holding her while she slept … that had meaning for him. To his relief, she had said nothing of the sort. She merely stood there in front of him, waiting for him to answer.

The routine nearly established itself. Two or three nights out of the week, Booth would stay the night with her. He was careful not to expect it, not to even bring up the subject. He knew Bones, and she needed to process things in her own way. There was no rushing her. So he'd wait until she asked him to come over for dinner. They'd decide on what to make for the night - now that she knew he could cook, she insisted that they take turns - and then pour over their latest case file while they ate. Toward the end of the night, after the dishes were done and she was satisfied with their progress on the case, he'd get ready to leave. Booth would make to leave every night, head towards the door and his jacket; if she wanted him to stay that night, she'd simply ask. If not, if she needed the night to herself, she'd simply see him to the door and wish him goodnight.

Several weeks passed in this manner. Whether he had spent the night alone or with her, work was always the same the next day. They remained much the same as they always had been: when their opinions differed, they fought. During work hours, they were the same Booth and Bones they had always been. He could have spent the entire night before with her petite frame wrapped in his arms, and the next day at work they barely touched. In some ways, he almost felt like they were leading different lives. At work, they were "Bones" and "Booth"; only when they were alone in her apartment would they sometimes slip and call each other "Seeley" or "Tempe". Not that it mattered to him either way; his last name sounded just as endearing in her lilting voice as his first name did.

Thus, the line was being erased. Inches and centimeters at a time they were crossing into unexplored territory. He was careful, ever so careful with this new openness from his partner. Her nightmares were coming less and less frequently now, but he knew that in many ways she was still trying to work through her ordeal. To his knowledge, not even Angela knew of the new development in their sleeping arrangements. The knowledge that not even Brennan's best friend was aware of what was going on spoke volumes to him. She was still coming to terms with it herself, and was not ready to invite another's opinion on the subject.

"Seeley? You okay?"

The sound of his name pulled him from his musings. He pulled his gaze from a spot on the floor to see that it was Cam speaking. She was standing not far from where he was, tucked against the railing on the forensic platform. He'd been trying to keep out of the way while also trying to hear what they were saying.

"Seeley?"

"Sorry. Lost in thought for a minute," He replied nonchalantly, "What's up?"

"Your phone was ringing."

"It was?" He asked, "I must not have heard it."

"You sure you're okay?" His friend asked again

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

She gave him a strange look, then turned back to whatever they were doing with the body. Booth pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID: Rebecca. It was his weekend with Parker, so she was probably calling to make sure where they were going to meet. He flipped the phone open and hit redial.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rebecca, it's me. Sorry I missed your call. What's up?"

"I have no idea, actually. Parker is really upset."

"What? Is he okay, what happened?" He demanded, worry flaring in his chest

"He's just upset, Seeley. He won't tell me why; he just keeps demanding to come see you."

"Well, I'm at the Jeffersonian, but you can bring him here."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Rebecca answered, "We're in the parking garage."

"Okay, then I'll be out there in a minute."

"Actually, he wants to come in. I told him I didn't think we could …" She trailed off

Booth threw a glance in his partner's direction. She was listening to something Angela was saying as she studied one of the bones. Just as he was about to look away, she looked up and caught his gaze. With an apologetic look, he motioned her over to him. He covered the mouth piece as she approached so he could talk without Rebecca hearing him.

"Hey, Bones, I know you're working, but Parker is outside. Would it interrupt you too much if he came in for a minute?"

For just a moment the most indescribable look passed over her face. The first word that came to mind was fear, but it was more than that. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. Maybe he had imagined it. When she answered, her voice was perfectly calm.

"Of course Parker can come in, Booth. I'll take a break for a minute."

He mouthed a thank you and took his hand off his cell phone.

"You guys can come in, Rebecca," He told her, "Do you want me to meet you at the door?"

"No, Parker says he can find his way."

"See you in a minute then."

He hung up and sighed. He had really been freaked out when he thought something was wrong with Parker. Well, something was upsetting him, but he wasn't in any danger. That wasn't so bad. Not far from him, he watched Bones pull off her latex gloves and throw them away. She looked a little tired today; she had opted not to have him stay the night last night. He hadn't had a chance to ask her how she'd slept yet, but it was still relatively early in the morning. Looking at her now, he was willing to say that she hadn't slept as soundly as he would hope.

The next few seconds were surreal. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, like he had paused a movie and was watching it scene by scene. He heard the glass doors slide open behind him and turned to see Parker and Rebecca walking in. As soon as they were in the doors and quick as lightning Parker had let go of Rebecca's hand and was running straight for the forensic platform. The words to deter his young son from stepping foot on the platform died in his mouth when he heard Parker yell one word.

"Bones!"

Utterly at a loss and frozen to his spot, Booth half turned and held his breath as he watched a blonde blur barrel up the stairs and straight at his partner. The little boy's voice had caught the attention of all the squints, and no one seemed to breathe. Startled by her name, Bones turned to see the little boy racing straight for her.

Parker crashed unceremoniously into her, instantly wrapping his little arms around her legs. He was speaking, but whatever he was saying was so rushed that it sounded like he was babbling. The world caught speed again and Booth, who recovered from his shock, closed the distance between himself and where his partner stood with his son. He made to pry Parker away from her, but she just looked at him and gave him the barest shake of her head. Gently, she his son's arms away from her legs and knelt down so that she could look him in the eye.

"Hi, Parker," She said softly, calmly

"Hi, Dr. Bones," Parker replied, matching her calm tone, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

Booth was so stunned by the last few moments that he wanted to laugh at their exchange. His son had ran from his mother, straight past him and right to Bones, and now they were talking as calmly and easily as if they were best friends.

"I thought you were in trouble," Parker answered

"Why would you think that?"

"I had a nightmare, Dr. Bones, and you were there."

Over Parker's head, Brennan's gaze locked with his. His son's admonition caught him by surprise just as much as it had her. He felt like his skin had gone cold, but he forced himself not to say anything.

"Everybody has nightmares, Parker," She started, and he could hear the undercurrent in her tone

"Not like this one," He insisted, "This one wasn't about monsters. You were laying on something and you couldn't move. I tried to reach you but I couldn't. I could hear you calling for Dad, but I couldn't see him. I kept telling you that he was coming, that you'd be okay, but the scary man came in and you started crying and I woke up."

No air left his lungs. His blood froze in his veins and he felt like he was spinning wildly out of control. His eyes found and locked onto his partner's face, which had lost all color and expression. Several long seconds passed in perfect, charged silence. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt constricted. Parker, apparently, was still talking.

"I couldn't hear the scary man saying anything, Dr. Bones, but I just knew he was a bad man and he wanted to hurt you."

Another person might have missed it, but Booth watched as a lone tear traced its way down his partner's cheek. He was terrified - Parker was having the same nightmares Bones was? That couldn't be possible. How in the hell could his five year old son be dreaming about something that he had no idea had happened? Then, a realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had never asked Bones what her nightmares were about. He assumed that they were about her kidnapping, but he'd never actually asked. Had she been having nightmares with Parker in them? The sound of his partner's voice brought him back.

"You must have been scared, Parker," She said, and her voice was thick

"Not really," He said simply, "The bad man couldn't see me. But he could see you, and I knew Dad would be upset if he hurt you …"

"Parker." Booth's voice sounded harsher than he'd meant it to, but his son turned to look at him. "Is this why you were upset?"

Parker nodded.

"Why didn't you tell Mom?"

The little boy looked sheepishly over to his mom, then back to his dad.

"I didn't think she would believe me," He said innocently, "And I wanted to make sure Dr. Bones was okay. Why didn't you come, Dad? She was saying your name and you didn't …"

Parker didn't get to finish his sentence. Brennan broke down, sobbing, right there in the middle of the forensic platform and everyone that was watching. Before the information could process with him, his son was hugging his partner as best as his short little arms would allow.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bones, I didn't mean to make you cry," He said sincerely

"You didn't make me cry, Parker," She said through her tears, hugging him back

"Yes I did."

Booth was prepared to hear her launch into a lengthy explanation of why people cried and how tears were made and something equally scientific; he was prepared for any response other than the one he heard.

"I'm just crying because I'm tired," Bones assured him

"That's what my mom says."

"It's a girl thing," She said, smiling, "But more importantly, I'm fine. See? I'm safe, at work, with your dad. There's no bad man trying to hurt me. It was just a bad dream. Okay?"

"I guess," Parker responded, but he didn't seem convinced

Booth watched as some sort of silent exchange passed between his partner and his son. Then, Parker hugged her again and then turned to face him, his nightmare apparently already forgotten. Parker trotted happily over to him, then held his hand out for him to take.

"Hi, Dad!" He said brightly

"Hey, little man," Booth answered, surprised that he could find his voice, "Why don't we come over here and talk to your mom."

Although Rebecca seemed as puzzled and taken aback by the situation as he was, she was not upset like he had expected. He thought about asking her why that was, then thought better of it. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off, and after the weird exchange that had just taken place, he thought it best to keep the conversation to a minimum. Several minutes later, when he had explained what little he could to her and promised to explain more when Parker wasn't around, he turned back to his son.

"You know it's your weekend with me, right?" He teased the boy

"I'm so excited!" Parker exclaimed, "Can we go to the park?"

"Of course we can, little man. But for now, Dad has to get back to work okay?"

"Okay. Are you gonna catch a bad guy, like the one in my dream?"

A sharp pain stabbed his chest, nearly robbing him of his breath. He forced a smile onto his face for his son and managed a reply.

"Yeah, Parker, we're gonna catch a bad guy. Now be a good boy and don't give Mom anymore trouble."

"I promise. Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, little man."

He walked them to the glass doors, but Rebecca had insisted that they could make their way back to the car without him. Booth considered arguing, but decided against it. Parker was no longer upset, and he really needed to find Bones. He waited until Rebecca and Parker had turned the corner, then turned back to the platform where Bones had been. Although Cam, Angela and Hodgins had resumed working, he could find no trace of his partner. He glanced toward her office and found that the door was closed and the blinds were closed. Uncertain and feeling shaken, he made his way determinedly toward her door.


	6. The Edge of the Unknown

**_Author's Note: This chapter came to me pretty easily (and quickly) but I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. I like some parts, and then others I'm just not sure if they fit or not. But hey. On another note, I always listen to music when I'm writing it helps the creative juices flow. So just as a fun little add on, I thought I would add the soundtrack for this story. These are the songs I have been listening to religiously while writing this. I encourage everyone to listen to them, they are some pretty awesome songs!_**

**_1. Fountain by Sara Lov (Bones Soundtrack)_**

**_2. Tears and Laughter by Tall Tree 6FT Man (Bones soundtrack)_**

**_3. I'd come for you by Nickelback_**

**_4. Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_**

**_5. Stolen by Dashboard Confessional_**

**_6. Time Lapse Lifeline by Maria Taylor_**

**_ Anyway, enjoy the chapter!_**

* * *

She took a deep breath, held it, then let it go with a soft whoosh. She willed her hands to stop shaking and her heart to stop racing. This was all just too much - she couldn't process it. She could feel the panic bubbling in her chest, the steady pressure building. Temperance Brennan was a woman in control of herself and her life - she did not panic, and she certainly didn't break. Her life depended on those two things, and now even they were being taken from her.

With childlike innocence, Parker had unknowingly stumbled upon two of the most disturbing aspects of her nightmares; the first was nothing more than her maternal fear that the boy would ever know the fear that she had felt. The second was a more alien fear, a more irrational and senseless one that bothered her more than she'd been willing to admit. In all of her nightmares, Booth never came for her. She'd struggled with this silently, first by merely trying to dismiss it and then by trying to tell herself that it didn't matter because nightmares weren't real. Both tactics had failed her. Now, not only was she horrified that Parker had seemingly shared her nightmare from the night before, but it bothered her that even Booth's son seemed more perturbed by the fact that his father never showed up rather than by the danger she was in. All these things, coupled together and piled upon the rest of the stress she felt, only fueled the panic building within her.

She stood from her spot at her desk and began pacing. She would not break - she refused with every iota of her being. Conner Swenson had broken down a wall within her, and she was determined to rebuild it. She simply couldn't allow herself the luxury of weakness.

Her agitation was so great that she was unaware of her partner's presence until he spoke.

"Tempe."

That one word, her nickname, uttered in such an intimate tone, was proof enough of how their relationship had changed. There had been no kissing, no professions of love, and yet their relationship had changed just as surely as if there had been. Only in that moment did she realize that she had allowed it to change; more than that, Booth had had the knowledge and forbearing to let her dictate where and when and how it happened. Even as she feared she was losing control over every other aspect of her life, he had given her complete control over this new development in their relationship. They were whatever she decided they would be.

She was shaking again. There were too many thoughts trying to make themselves heard, too many emotions trying to push their way to the surface.

"Tempe," He said again

She looked at him, standing just in front of the closed door. He was there, just waiting for her to decide.

"I don't know when it started," She said in a voice that was nearly a whisper, fresh tears in her eyes, "First they were just nightmares, and then Parker started showing up. Sometimes I can see him, and others I can only hear his voice, but he always tells me to hang on. He always tells me that you're coming for me, that you'll save me if I can just hang on long enough. And I always try, Booth, I hang on, and you never come."

The words flew out of her mouth of their own accord and before she could stop them. There were just too many holes in her walls; they were crumbling under their own weight before she could repair them. She felt unbearably vulnerable, as if she were teetering on the brink of some unknown precipice.

Booth started toward her, several emotions playing across his features. She still was not adept at recognizing the more subtle emotions, but Booth was no stranger to her. She recognized pain, doubt, and maybe even guilt.

He pulled her gently but surely into his arms and she felt the panic subside. This was her safe haven: his arms, holding her protectively against his chest. Never had a man's embrace reassured her as thoroughly and completely as her partner's did. He was her guardian, her protector and avenger. He was everything she had not known she needed him to be.

"I'll always come for you, Bones," He said softly, "No matter what. As long as there's breath in my body, I'll be here to keep you safe."

She felt him pull away, though only slightly, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. The simple truth of his words was reflected back to her: he was not being coy, or giving her some platitude to make her feel better. He meant what he said. His hand swept her hair away from her face, then came to rest on her cheek. His palm was warm against her skin, comfortable.

"Do you believe me?" He murmured

"Yes."

"Good."

He leaned down and brought their lips together in their first real kiss since the hospital. He was gentle, unassuming, but she leaned forward and deepened it. His hand tangled in her hair; she let all the fear and panic and uncertainty pour out of her, leaving only a welcome sense of peace and pleasure. When they broke apart, it was Booth who pulled away first. Unaware that she had closed them, she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Is Parker okay?" She asked

"Thankfully, he has the attention span of every other five year old."

She chuckled, then forced herself to leave the circle of his arms. She was relieved when the panic she'd felt only moments before did not return. There was no longer any pressure building in her chest.

Brennan sighed. There was work to be done, a body to identify. When she turned her gaze to Booth, he seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

"Do you need a few minutes to yourself?" He asked

"No. Thank you, Booth."

He gave her that disarming smile of his and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"You're welcome, Bones."

He held the door open for her, and when she stepped past him and out of the office she was once again in control of herself. Conscious of her partner's presence behind her, she made her way back to the forensic platform. To her relief, none of her colleagues made any mention of the strange event with Parker.

Taking her spot next to the table where the body lay, Brennan went back to work.

As was always the case for her, all sense of the passage of time seemed to desert her. She blocked out the sounds of the people and the lab around her, focusing all her concentration on the bones. Mentally, she made note of every mark and injury on the body. She wiped her mind clean of every other thought, letting the information paint pictures in her mind as she gathered it.

Before long - at least, it didn't feel like long to her - she knew more than just the age and sex of their victim. She knew that he had been tall for his age: six foot one at only seventeen years old. She knew that he'd broken his ankle the year before, most likely playing soccer. According to the particulates Hodgins had found in the victim's shoes, the boy had most likely lived only a few miles from where they had found the body. The picture solidifying in her mind, she was comfortable enough to share her findings with Booth. When she turned her attention from the table, however, she was mildly surprised to find that Booth was no longer on the platform. She glanced at her watch - she'd spent several hours going over the bones.

"Hey, Sweetie," Angela greeted her

Brennan turned to see Angela making her way up the stairs toward her, both her jacket and Brennan's draped over one arm.

"Booth left a little bit ago. He had to go in for some meeting with his boss or something, but he said he'd meet us for lunch. Hungry?"

"Yes, actually," Brennan agreed

Angela handed over her jacket, which she slipped on as they headed for the door. Her mind still half occupied with her discoveries, Brennan was only half listening as her friend prattled on about something.

"Did you hear me, Bren?"

"Sorry, Ange. I was thinking about the body. What did you say?"

Angela snorted and took her by the arm. They were crossing the street toward the diner, and although the wind was chilly the sunshine was warm on her cheek.

"I wish I could just tune things out the way you do," Angela teased

"I do not 'tune things out', Ange," She shot back, "I'm just preoccupied."

"I know, sweetie. I was teasing."

Brennan felt herself blush a little. She should have known her friend wasn't being serious, and normally she would have. Apparently she was still feeling a little on edge from the events of the day, and she instantly regretted snapping at her best friend.

"Sorry," She admonished

"No big deal. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Brennan answered calmly, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Angela gave her a look that clearly said she knew that Brennan had plenty of reasons to not be okay. Brennan made no reply; they were just coming to the door of the diner, and she foolishly hoped that her friend would drop the subject. It wasn't that she didn't trust Angela with the truth - she just wasn't sure what to say. As it was, Angela had apparently decided not to let her get away with her silence.

"Look, Bren, I know you like your privacy and everything, but it's okay if you need to talk. No one will think you're weak if you need to take a little time for yourself."

"I know, Ange, and I know you tend to worry without due cause …"

"Without due cause?" Angela repeated, "Sweetie, you were kidnapped, drugged and strapped to a table for four days. I would say that constitutes 'due cause'."

Brennan was saved from having to reply by the appearance of her partner. With a smile and a greeting Booth slipped into the seat next to her. He chatted with Angela for a few minutes, then turned to her. Although his tone was light, she could see the underlying concern in his eyes.

"Everything okay, Bones?"

"Of course," She answered easily

"Good. Have you ordered yet?" He asked

"We only got here a few minutes before you did," She answered

"I bet. I told Angela to drag you off that platform if she had to - I know how engrossed you get."

"What do you mean by that?" Brennan challenged

"Nothing, Bones, I'm just saying. You get caught up in your work sometimes and forget to eat."

"I don't forget, I just get busy. Whoever killed that boy is still out there …"

"I know, Tempe, I know," He soothed, "I wasn't criticizing you. I just want to make sure you eat."

"I know. I'm sorry," She huffed, "I guess I'm just a little on edge today."

She offered him an apologetic smile, one that he returned. When she glanced back across the table, she was confused by what she saw. Angela was giving her a look that was a cross between disbelief and amazement. For just a moment, Brennan couldn't figure out why. When she replayed the last few seconds of conversation in her mind, she caught it - Booth had called her Tempe.

She gave Angela a pleading look, one that begged her not to say anything. She thought maybe the other woman would ignore it, but then her friend arched one eyebrow and gave her a look that clearly said she expected a full explanation later.

When the waitress came to the table, Brennan was surprised to discover just how hungry she really was. When everyone had ordered their food, she launched into an explanation of her findings to Booth. They bounced ideas off of each other for awhile, Angela interjecting with something every few sentences.

Mid conversation the waitress materialized with their drinks, and Brennan was irritated to discover that she was flirting with Booth as she set the drinks on the table. Angela, too, seemed to have noticed. She gave Brennan one of her "Can you believe this?" looks. For his part, Booth seemed completely oblivious to the woman's advances. That made her feel a little better.

Inwardly, Brennan was a little annoyed with herself. Sure, she always noticed when women hit on her partner, but she'd always been able to ignore it. Then again, their relationship had undergone something of a change recently. She thought back to the kiss they had shared earlier; oh yes, there had certainly been a change.

A new and perplexing thought came to the forefront of her mind then: although she had never seen the sense of it before, she was certain that if her relationship with Booth was going to go any farther, there was one thing she needed to make clear. If they were going to be with each other, then they weren't going to be with anyone else.


	7. Auf Achse

**_Author's Note: Just as a heads up, I'm like the mean little kid down the street who waits for you to ride by on your bike only to throw a stick in the spokes just to watch you fall. Lol. What a terrible analogy, huh? But really, I will not be surprised if I get a few upset reviews after this chapter. I kinda threw a mean little wrench in there ... sorry! But I promise you will really like the way it plays out, so please don't curse my name too thoroughly. I have it all played out in my head, promise. Just stick with me. Oh, and thanks for all the reviews guys! You keep me going._**

* * *

_You see her, you can't touch her  
You hear her, you can't hold her  
You want her, you can't have her..._

_Auf Achse, Franz Ferdinand_

* * *

Although he couldn't say exactly what she was thinking, Booth could tell just by the look on his partner's face that she was contemplating something serious. He considered himself well versed in most things that were Bones or Bones related, and he'd seen that look before. He briefly considered asking her what was on her mind, then thought better of it. If she wanted him to know what it was, she would tell him.

Not much longer after she'd brought them their drinks, the waitress was back with their food. He did his best to ignore her simpering flirtation while still being polite, but he found the task to be a difficult one. He wouldn't deny that she was attractive - her black hair and blue eyes complimented her pale skin in an undeniably beautiful way - rather, he simply didn't care. A few weeks ago, when he had been intent on keeping up appearances and trying to distract himself, that truth would have unnerved him. Now, however, the situation had changed. He was as a man who thought himself blind, only to open his eyes and discover that he could see the world in detail so vivid it was heart breaking.

When the waitress had gone and everyone was settled with their food, Bones seemed to relax again. True to her easy going nature, Angela had her friend engaged in conversation in no time. Booth listened intently as he ate, although he was more focused on the sound of his partner's voice than he was on the actual conversation. He had come to know Bones' voice so well in the past four years that he was almost certain he could pick it out of a crowd of hundreds. He wondered what she would say to that if he ever told her.

Before long their food was finished and their tickets had been paid and they were headed back to the lab. The sidewalks and streets were full of people as they went about their business; the critic in him would call it paranoia, but the Army Ranger in him called it being cautious. He stayed close to the two women beside him, his eyes constantly sliding from one thing to another. A crowd was great cover for a man like Conner Swenson, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep Booth alert.

Thankfully, neither Angela nor Brennan seemed to notice his caution. They made it back to the lab without incident, and Booth had just dropped his guard when the sucker punch came.

Three abreast they entered the glass doors to their home away from home. Booth, who had been paying more attention to the surroundings rather than to their conversation, managed to make it a few steps in the door before stopping dead in his tracks. Whether because of his sudden stop or because she too had seen what he had, Bones came to a halt just in front of him.

The air in Booth's lungs left him in an inaudible gush. Every muscle in his body went rigid, rendering him immobile.

There, standing patiently at the foot of the platform stairs, was Sully.

In that moment, every secret hope that Booth had tried so hard to deny was crushed. Like threads of the barest gossamer thrown into a fire, so were his chances destroyed.

Bones was the first to recover. From his spot by the door Booth watched her as she greeted the other man with an exclamation of surprise and a hug. She was speaking to him, but Booth didn't hear what she was saying. With a great force of will he commanded his body to relax. He schooled his face into an expression of calm indifference, one that he had developed and honed as a sniper. He forced the images of a sleeping Brennan wrapped in his arms out of his mind and headed for the other man.

"Looking good, Booth," Sully greeted, extending his hand

"Same goes for you, buddy," Booth replied, shaking his offered hand, "How was sailing?"

"It was amazing," Sully said sincerely, smiling, "But it's kinda nice to be back on dry land for a bit."

Booth bit back the reply that bubbled in his throat. Sully turned his attention back to Bones, and Booth had the sudden urge to punch him. Everything he'd been so carefully working toward, ruined. He concentrated on breathing evenly, on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He was very nearly calm again when Sully reached out and grasped Brennan's hand.

"Tempe," He said tenderly

"You know what, Bones," Booth cut him off, his resolve broken, "I've got some paperwork to catch up on. Call me if you need anything."

When she looked at him there was an expression on her face that he knew he should recognize, but he was too agitated to decipher it. He threw a "Later, Sully" over his shoulder but was already too far away to hear if there was a response.

Booth was careful to monitor the cadence of his footsteps as he headed for his SUV. No matter how badly he wanted to, he would neither run nor hurry away from what was surely his downfall.

Alone in the quiet of his vehicle, Booth opened the floodgate of his thoughts. Two years Sully had been gone: two years without so much as a phone call or a letter. At least, as far as Booth knew anyway. He shoved that thought aside. Of all the God forsaken times for the man to reappear, it had to be now. Now, when he'd invested so much time into laying the foundation for what could have been his shot at a real relationship with Bones.

He started the engine and reversed out of his parking spot. Driving had a soothing effect on him and he let his thoughts tumble carelessly through his mind as he headed for the Hoover building. Bones herself had pointed out that she considered herself and Sully to be well matched. Sully understood what her line of work entailed, had even worked with her first hand. Their sex life, well … Booth wasn't going to go there. The point, he told himself, was that Sully had made her happy. At the time, even Booth had thought they were well suited for each other. Now, well, not only was he biased but he was also willing to admit it. At least to himself anyway.

Just when his irritability reared its ugly head again he pulled into a parking spot in the FBI building's parking garage. Here, where it was not uncommon to see Agents rushing from place to place, he let himself be carried to his office on hurried footsteps.

A terrible thought weeded its way into his mind then. No matter how he felt on the matter, Bones was a woman of logic and science. They had never said anything about dating. Logically, they were not a couple. He had no claim on her as a woman or a lover, therefore she owed him no loyalties as such. Not that Bones had ever put much stock into the idea of dating one person exclusively. There was the time she'd tried to date the deep sea welder and … what the hell did the other guy do? He couldn't remember, but she had tried to date both of them at the same time. All that taken into account, it was not impossible to assume that Bones had kept in contact with Sully. Not only that, she could have known that he was coming back. Scratch that - she had been genuinely surprised to see him. Still …

Booth balled one hand into a fist. Despite how their opinions differed, Bones respected him as a friend and a partner if nothing else. She would have told him out of common decency and friendly regard if she'd meant to pursue a relationship with Sully. Wouldn't she? Then again, a little voice nagged, it wasn't any of his business. Or at least it hadn't been up until a few weeks ago.

More for the distraction, and because he'd meant to earlier, Booth picked up the phone and dialed Sweets.

"Hey, Sweets," He greeted when the other man answered, "It's Booth."

"What's up?" Sweets asked conversationally

"I just had a question. Have you ever heard of two people having the same dream?"

"Heard of it, yes. Don't tell me you and Dr. Brennan are having the same dreams now."

"No." _That's the last thing I need_, Booth thought. "What can you tell me about it, Sweets?"

"Not much actually. They call it 'simultaneous dreaming', but not a lot of research has been done on the subject."

"Do they know why it happens or what causes it?"

"I'm afraid not. The dreamers usually know each other, obviously, and in most cases have something in common. I'm afraid that's all I know. Sorry, Booth."

"Don't worry about it. One more thing: this 'similar dreaming' thing doesn't mean that whoever had the dream is sick or something, does it?"

"It's 'simultaneous dreaming', Agent Booth, and no. It's not exactly commonplace, but it is a naturally occurring phenomena."

"Great," Booth said, relieved, "Thanks, Sweets."

He thought he could hear the younger man saying something else, but he ignored it and hung up. Well, the only thing that Bones and Parker had in common was Booth himself.

Suddenly weary, Booth sat down heavily in his chair and dropped his head into his hands. Perhaps his only shot with the woman he'd secretly loved for several years had been utterly destroyed, but at least he could be certain that his son was a healthy and happy little boy. For that, at least, he could be thankful.

Dejected and trying desperately not to be, Booth pulled last month's expense reports out of a stack of files on his desk. He needed something to do, something to occupy his mind. He couldn't just let himself sit there and brood over Sully's return. No matter what, Bones was his friend. After everything she had been through, she deserved nothing less than happiness. Even if that happiness existed in another man.

* * * *

For hours Booth poured over his paperwork, forcing his mind to concentrate on nothing but the numbers and words staring back at him from the page. He ignored the busy world of the FBI that buzzed right outside his door, ignored the incessant ringing of phones and chatter that only added to the chaos. Outwardly, he was an ambitious and fastidious agent who was an example to his colleagues. Inwardly, he was a mess. Every few minutes, when he thought was calm and in control of himself again, something else would come up. His mind would call up an image of Bones, wrapped tenderly in his arms and sleeping peacefully. Just when he'd get that picture dismissed, he'd remember the inflection of her voice when she'd call him Seeley when they were alone.

All these memories and more were driving him to distraction. Even his senses were against him in this battle. Irritated, defeated, Booth glanced at the clock on the wall. Four thirty was an acceptable time to call it quits; he'd made some progress on his paperwork at least. Besides that, Cam had only called him once to give him an update on their findings. A bad omen, in his opinion, considering that Bones was usually pretty adamant about being the one to keep him in the loop. She had probably gone home with Sully hours ago.

With a flourish he stood and grabbed his suit jacket. He made sure his desk was neat and orderly, and that everything in his office was in its proper place. He gave it one last good look, then shut off his lights and headed for his car. Without an external source of distraction, he was easy prey for all the thoughts he'd been trying to ignore.

Booth had not been prepared for Temperance Brennan. He hadn't been prepared to work with her, but work with her he did; he hadn't been prepared to enjoy her company, but enjoy it he did; and he certainly hadn't been prepared to love her, but love her he did. Sometimes he felt as if the world were playing some huge cosmic joke on him. When he felt really discouraged, he was certain that it wasn't the world that was laughing at him, but God. He was not an unattractive man, and he'd had his fair share of his serious relationships. Why, out of all those women, would it be his genius partner who captured his heart? Maybe it was just God's way of telling him that he was doomed to love, but never be loved in return. Not by a woman, anyway.

He snorted out loud at himself. What a pitiful and self deprecating turn his thoughts had taken. He may not feel like it now, but he would be okay. He didn't really have a choice: Parker needed him. Bones needed him in her own way as well, even if it wasn't in the way he wanted her to need him.

Having beaten the five o' clock rush - although just barely - the drive to his apartment went swiftly. Before he knew it he was unlocking his front door and throwing his jacket on the coat rack. There, in the echoing stillness of his apartment, he was aware of just how close he had gotten. His overnight bag was sitting on the floor next to his couch, empty and waiting for it's next trip in the back of the SUV. He'd last used it to spend the night at Bones'.

Everywhere he looked there was a memory from the last few weeks. He simply couldn't escape this new reality, and he felt then that he'd been foolish to try. Sully had returned, and he was just going to have to deal with that. There was no running, no hiding his head under the covers like when he was seven and thought he could make things go away just by ignoring them. He could go to work tomorrow and act like the last few weeks had never happened, if that's what needed to be done. He was a good man, a good agent and a good father. He was also a good friend, and if that's all Bones needed him to be then that was all that he would be. Everything else, well … everything else would just have to come to him in its own time.

* * *

**_Auf Achse is a German expression meaning "on the road"._**


	8. Empty Walls

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Had a rough week. Anyway, things are starting to get good! Lol. Let me know what ya'll think. Oh, and thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far ... you keep me going!_**

* * *

Brennan was not accustomed to feeling like a stranger in her own home. Her apartment had always been a safe haven for her, a place of quiet comfort and relaxation. Now, however, it just felt empty. She tried to tell herself that it had nothing to do with the fact that Booth wasn't there with her, but it was a vain attempt. She missed his presence, his silly jokes and gentle assurance. She glanced at her cell phone, lying next to her on the coffee table. She thought about calling him; she even managed to pick up the phone before setting it down again. She was too confused by the day's events - she needed some time to think.

The reappearance of Sully had shaken her. Somehow, it had never crossed her mind that he might actually come back. Sure, she had missed him at first, but she had gotten over it. There was always something else to focus on, something else to do. Besides, she had Booth. She was never alone, as long as Booth was there. She hadn't even kept in contact with Sully after he left. As far as she had been concerned, that was another chapter in the book of her love life that was closed. Now, however, here he was just showing up at the Jeffersonian.

Manners told her that she should have stayed longer to entertain him. She should have done anything other than what she had. Confused by the revelation she'd stumbled upon in the diner, and then by her former lover's sudden appearance, Brennan had ran. Well, not actually ran; she'd simply found an excuse to leave in an expedient manner. She felt bad, on some level, for treating Sully that way. Then again, she simply couldn't bear anymore emotional stress at the moment. She had still cared for Sully when he'd left, and the way he'd grabbed her hand and said her name made it apparent that he still cared for her. The problem wasn't how he felt, it was how she felt.

Her relationship with Booth was on a new and more intimate level than it had ever been. The intimacy wasn't what scared her; what scared her was that she could not ever remember being as happy with another man as she was with Booth. As simple as their relationship appeared on the outside, it was like a complex web of carefully woven (but strong) threads that tied them together. They shared more than a sexual relationship, more than the primal urges that drove every person. In the last few weeks, Brennan had finally admitted to herself that what they had was not typical or easily defined.

No matter how she tried, Brennan simply couldn't wrap her mind around it all. As terrible as it sounded, she wished that Sully had not returned from sailing. She had too much to deal with as it was - his presence only complicated matters further. If he had shown up a week later, even, things would have been easier. That would have given her time to figure out how she felt about Booth and their situation. Another week and she could have figured it all out, easily. At least, that's what she told herself.

Brennan was not a "heart" person. She wasn't the best with emotions and "feeling things". Lately, though, Booth had been unknowingly showing her how nice it could be to be a heart person. Even now she could sense the slow changes that had taken place within her - they were the same changes that made her feel suddenly lonely in the pressing silence of her apartment. She missed Booth. In the last few weeks she'd become disconcertingly fond of having him there with her. Also, his absence was part of the reason she wasn't sleeping; the bigger part of the reason was because she'd already fallen asleep once and been woken by a nightmare. Apparently his presence was the only thing that could keep her nightmares at bay, and since he wasn't here she could resign herself to a sleepless night.

Then again, she could always call Sully. She didn't doubt that he would be pleased to resume their previous relationship; the problem was that she did not want to pursue a romantic relationship with Sully again. The knowledge truly came as a surprise to her, because she knew that in many ways the two of them were sufficiently compatible. She had enjoyed being with Sully; and yet, she no longer felt anything for him. Sully was not the person whose presence she practically craved, or the person who could reassure her with just a look. Sully simply wasn't the one.

Sitting on her couch with her legs tucked beneath her, Brennan was starting to make sense of all of Angela's previous hints. She was starting to understand her friend's insistence that there was something "more" between her and Booth. All the puzzle pieces she had thought she was missing were not only starting to come together, the puzzle seemed to be solving itself. Booth was more than her partner: he was the person who held her when she cried, the person who had seen her break and was helping her put herself back together. He was a constant in her life, a perennial fountain of strength for her when she had none left. All this time she'd been trying to decide if it was worth it to have her happiness rest on only one person, and she'd been to afraid to see the truth. Despite her fear or doubt or arguments against it, her happiness already rested on Booth. Little by little she had become more dependent on him to make her smile, more dependent on his ability to soothe her pain when she was hurting.

She was a lost cause. More than that, she wanted to be a lost cause. If ever there was a person she could lose herself in, it was Seeley Booth.

Warmed by this new knowledge and the comfort that came from deciding on a solid conclusion, Brennan smiled to herself. Despite her lack of sleep she felt energized; she decided to thoroughly clean her apartment for lack of a better outlet for her energy.

* * * * * *

Brennan vacuumed and dusted and cleaned all through the night, stopping only when the rising sun began to lighten the sky from black to gray. She surveyed her work for a final time, then set herself to getting ready for the day. Whether as a result of her vigorous cleaning or the hot water massaging her muscles, when Brennan stepped out of the shower she was aware of just how tired her sleepless night had made her. She juggled getting dressed and styling her hair with making a pot of coffee, knowing that she would need the caffeine to help get her through the day.

Even taking her time Brennan made it into the lab just as the sun was bathing the sky in the first rays of honey gold daylight. She opened the blinds that covered her window so she could watch the morning unfold as she started her computer and pulled up her weekly reports.

Sometime later, when she had finished off another half of a pot of coffee to herself just to stay awake, she was pulled from her work by a soft chortle.

"You really need to get a life, Sweetie," Angela greeted

"That statement does not make sense," She shot back, glancing at her friend

"You look dead on your feet, Bren," Angela told her, coming into the office to sit on the couch

"That statement is even more preposterous than the last, Ange," She chided

"I mean you look exhausted," Angela corrected

"Then why didn't you just say that the first time?" Brennan queried, then continued, "And yes, I am fairly tired today."

"How come? Just couldn't sleep?"

Here Brennan found herself at a crossroads. She could make up a false excuse to mollify Angela's curiosity, or she could tell her the truth. If she told her the truth, Angela would ask a wide range of questions that Brennan wasn't sure she could answer; if she lied, then Angela would be undoubtedly upset when she found out. Brennan didn't want to hurt her best friend's feelings - besides, Angela was full of advice.

"I couldn't sleep because of the nightmares," Brennan said in her no nonsense way

"What nightmares?" Angela asked, instantly concerned

So Brennan spent the next several minutes filling her friend in on the events of the past few weeks. She told her about the nightmares, about Booth finding out and how they'd seemingly stumbled upon the antidote for said nightmares. Knowing how Angela would only pester her for the details anyway, Brennan told her about their sleeping arrangements, adamantly reiterating that they had shared only one kiss and no sexual intimacy. Angela's enthusiasm, however, did not seem at all deterred.

"Booth is such a gentleman!" She gushed when Brennan had finished, "I always knew he was your knight in shining armor."

"He's my partner, Ange," Brennan began

"Oh please, sweetie," Angela interjected, "Not that line of crap again. You just sat here and told me how that man has spent several nights just holding you so that you could sleep. Just holding you, Bren, like you were his whole world."

"I never said anything of the sort!" Brennan objected

"Of course you didn't. You didn't have to. Everyone except you can see it, sweetie, we've seen it for a while. Seeley Booth would break every bone in his body if he thought it would make you happy."

"Why would that …?"

"It's a figure of speech," Angela said quickly, "The point, Bren, is that Booth loves you so entirely that he'll do anything for you. Even if that means not telling you how much he loves you."

"That doesn't make sense, Ange," She pointed out, squirming in her chair

"Yes it does, sweetie. As your friends, we know that you have your own way of coming to conclusions. You process things in your own time, and that's okay. Booth knows that. He knows that there's no rushing you, and so he says nothing. Since I'm your best friend I know you better than most, and right now I know you need a little push."

"A little push?" Brennan repeated, confused

Angela took a deep breath and leaned forward in her seat on the couch. Her expression was utterly serious, yet gentle.

"Temperance, Seeley Booth loves you. He loves you the way a man loves his wife when he swears to love her until death do they part. He loves you the way a fish loves water or a bird loves the air. And I know you love him too, or you would never have asked him to stay with you."

With the intuition and tact that was so completely like her, Angela had driven home her point at just the right time. Her words struck a chord in Brennan's heart, the same chord that had begun to resonate as she slowly started to admit how she felt about her partner. She couldn't just dismiss Angela's words as she had before; not now, when she felt the truth of them deep in her heart, not when she'd finally admitted the depth of her feelings to herself.

"But what about Sully?" She challenged

"What about him?" Angela responded, "Yeah, you two had a great time together, but it ended and you moved on. When Sully left, who was still here?"

"Booth."

"Booth," Angela repeated, "Just like he's always been. I know you're afraid, sweetie, afraid that he'll leave or stop loving you, but that's not going to happen."

"How can you be so sure, Ange?"

"Because he's proved it, Bren," Her friend answered with a patient smile, "He's been by your side, unfailingly, for four years. He was there when you found out about your family, when your dad and Russ reappeared just to disappear again … he's been by your side through every major crisis in the last few years. He's never left you, sweetie, and he never will."

A lone tear traced a path down Brennan's cheek. Angela smiled at her warmly, a smile that said she understood what a big realization this was for her.

"What if you're wrong, Ange?" Brennan asked quietly

"I may not be a genius, but I know men. Trust me on this."

"Trust you on what?" Another voice chimed in

Both women turned to see Sully standing in the doorway of her office.

"Hey, Sully, you're here early," Angela diverted

"Yeah, I wanted to catch Tempe before Booth dragged her off on a case or something," He said, smiling

"In that case, I was just leaving. I'll talk to you later, Sweetie."

"Thanks, Ange," Brennan said sincerely

"Anytime."

Angela slipped out of the office as Sully strode easily over to where Brennan sat at her desk. For her part, Brennan was curious about what could be so important that he would show up just after seven in the morning to talk about it.

"You look tired, Tempe," He said evenly

"I'm fine," She stated

He didn't reply right away. Brennan found herself wondering over how different her name sounded coming from him instead of Booth. It sounded ridiculous even just thinking it, but when it came from Booth it felt so much more intimate. He used her given name less often, and said it softer; it was almost like he was whispering a word he was forbidden to use. Somehow the knowledge made her irritated with Sully.

"What do you want, Sully?" She nearly snapped

"I just want to talk, Tempe."

"About what?"

"Well, I stopped by the FBI building this morning. I was just gonna stop by and say hi to a few friends, and I ended up running into a friend of yours. Dr. Sweets?"

"I don't know if I would call him a friend," Brennan mused, almost to herself, "But what's the point?"

"Well, I got talking to him about sailing, and then one thing lead to another and we started talking about you."

"Get to the point," Brennan said sternly, although she had a feeling that this wasn't going to end well

"You were kidnapped, Tempe," Sully said, his voice softer, "Kidnapped by a man who had a vendetta against Booth."

"I'm fine, Sully," She said firmly

"That's not the point!" He exclaimed, moving toward her, "Your life was in danger because of something Booth did."

"Sully," She warned, her eyes narrowing, "Booth is not responsible for another man's actions. You know that."

"You could have been killed."

"I wasn't."

"That's not the point, Tempe."

She could feel a slow blush creeping up her neck and into her cheeks. This conversation was not going to go the way she wanted it to; in her opinion, since she didn't blame Booth for what had happened then neither should anyone else. Besides, he had saved her life. Just as he had so many times before.

"I'm tired, Sully. Just say whatever it is you came here to say."

"He's going to get you killed, Temperance. One of these days someone is going to get too close, and he won't be able to save you. Have you thought about that? I know you think he's infallible, but he's not, Tempe, and I'm terrified of what's going to happen to you."

Something in her seemed to explode at his words.

"What makes you think you get to just show up back here and attack Booth?" She nearly yelled, angry, "You have no idea what you're talking about, Sully, so it would behoove you to just keep your mouth shut."

"Keep my mouth shut? There you go again, Tempe, defending your 'partner'. Or are you two actually fucking now?"

Brennan's breath hitched in her throat. Her retort died on her lips as the weight of his words struck her like a kick to the stomach. The color drained from her cheeks as she stared at him in disbelief. Even Sully seemed to be horrified at his own words; for long seconds he just stood there, his mouth working as if to speak, but no words came out.

"Tempe …"

"Not another word, Sullivan."

Her blood ran cold at the sound of Booth's voice. She looked away from Sully to see her partner standing in her doorway, a forgotten folder in his hands. He had that look on his face, the same look that she had seen many times before when he was looking at someone he was considering shooting.

"If you ever speak to Bones like that again, Sullivan, I will shoot you where you stand."


	9. A Beautiful Unfolding

**_Author's Note: Here it is! The last chapter! I have to say, this was actually the easiest chapter to write. It pretty much wrote itself, actually. Thank you for the reviews everyone, I hope you have enjoyed this story! _**

* * *

_Is this the end of the moment  
Or just a beautiful unfolding  
Of a love that will never be?  
Or maybe be  
Everything that I never thought could happen  
Or ever come to pass and  
I wonder  
If maybe  
Maybe I could be  
All you ever dreamed_

_~ Anywhere But Here, Safety Suit_

* * *

Booth had a terrible temper. He'd learned to control it as he'd become a teenager, determined not to be like his father. Now that he was an adult, he was proud to say that he could count on one hand the times his temper had gotten away from him.

No words escaped his lips as he stood there staring at Sully, but a battle was being fought. His anger goaded him, taunted him to move forward and swing at the other man. Punching Sully would be easy; the only thing that was keeping him from doing exactly that was the knowledge that it would upset Bones. Even still, it took a great outpouring of willpower to keep him immobile.

"I have no idea what the two of you were talking about," Booth said in a tightly controlled voice, "But you were in the wrong, Sully."

Sully, who still seemed to be recovering from the suddenness of Booth's appearance, made no reply at first. Booth glanced away from the other agent for the first time since his arrival; Bones was standing behind her desk, her color just starting to return to her cheeks. She held his gaze for a moment before Sully's voice grabbed his attention.

"I'm sorry, Tempe," He apologized, looking only at her, "I didn't mean for it to come out like that."

Booth observed Bones' reaction carefully. Any uncertainty in her stance and expression melted away; her face hardened and she crossed her arms over her chest. Booth almost chuckled - he recognized her argumentative stance immediately.

"You didn't mean for it to come out like that," She repeated, "But you meant to say it?"

Booth felt satisfied to see Sully squirm where he stood. Brennan's gaze was smoldering, as if her anger had lit a fire somewhere within her. He hadn't seen her so angry in awhile, and he was thankful that her anger wasn't directed at him.

"Yes, Tempe, I meant to say it," Sully answered evenly

"So your apology wasn't sincere."

"What? Of course it was," Sully shot back

"But you just said that you meant to say it," She challenged, "So either you didn't mean to apologize or …"

"Damn it, Tempe, now is not the time to argue with me over semantics!"

In his anger, Booth wasn't aware that he'd moved until he was standing next to Sully, one hand on the other man's forearm. The anger coiled tightly in his stomach, doubling and redoubling in on itself until it was a cluster of knots. He would be damned if Sully was just going to attack his partner, no matter what their relationship was. He simply wouldn't stand for it.

"I don't know what your problem is, Sullivan, but I'm not going …"

"You're my problem, Booth!" Sully exploded, wrenching his arm out of Booth's grasp

"Me? You've been back less than 72 hours, how can you have a problem with me?"

"You're gonna get her killed," He snarled

Sully may as well have reached out and slapped him in the face. The deep well of fear and guilt Booth kept hidden within him was ripped open, its contents running into the darkest corners of his heart. How many times had he feared the same thing? How many times had he tortured himself with the worry that one day he would fail to save her? Now here was Sully, a living, breathing demon to throw that fear in his face.

"Booth saved my life," Bones interjected, disrupting his thoughts

"This time. He saved you this time, but what happens next time?"

"I'm not helpless, Sully," She answered angrily, "I have a black belt in Karate."

"And yet, you were still kidnapped."

Booth watched his partner shift her weight from one foot to the other, apparently undeterred. He wanted to say something, but he was still fighting with himself. He had tried to dismiss what Sully had said, but the faces and names of his enemies kept up a steady cadence as they marched across his mind.

"Everyone has enemies," Bones was saying, "No one is safe from everyone."

"Some are safer than others. I'm sorry, Tempe, but I love you too much to …"

"Love me?" She nearly yelled, arms dropping to her sides, "Don't stand there and speak to me of love."

"Why not? It's the truth."

"You don't leave the people you love," She accused

Booth should have seen it coming. He should have been prepared for it and stopped it, but he was blindsided. Whether it was because he was still trying to recover from Sully's taunts, or because he had always thought Sully was a better man than that, his next words sent Booth over the edge.

"And here all this time I thought that was the standard for your family."

He didn't see Bones' reaction. He grabbed Sully by the bicep, his fingers digging into the other man's flesh. All of Sully's reason seemed to dissipate at the contact and he turned on Booth, his tongue bleeding acid words.

"If you cared about her at all you'd leave her alone!"

Booth ground his teeth but kept his silence, hauling him toward the door.

"You put her in danger every day," He raved, "And you don't care. You don't care what happens to her!"

He pulled Sully toward him roughly, his blood pounding in his ears.

"Don't you dare tell me how I feel," He growled, "I know there are people out there who will try and get to me through her, and so does she. Unlike you, Sullivan, I love her enough to let her choose. Until Bones tells me to leave, I'm staying put. Now get the hell out of here, before I throw you out."

Booth let him go with a fierce shove in the direction of the door- for a brief moment, Sully just hovered in the open doorway. He was looking past Booth, his gaze directed at Bones. He seemed to be deciding on something, and Booth was just about to make a decision for him when he spoke.

"I'm truly sorry, Tempe," He said softly, regretfully, "For everything I've said. I was wrong. But I really do love you."

Booth watched the other man leave, then stared at the glass doors after he was gone. He counted his breaths, focused on diffusing the live fuse that was his anger. He wasn't sure what response he was going to get from Bones when he turned around, and the last thing he wanted was for his anger to spill over to her.

When he felt he was in control of his temper again, he turned to face his partner. Bones hadn't moved from her spot behind the desk, but she was watching him. Her expression was no longer angry; she looked exhausted and upset, but not angry.

"Are you alright, Bones?" He asked gently, moving toward her

"How can he say those terrible things and then expect me to believe that he loves me?" She queried

"Well, Bones, love does that to people sometimes."

"Because love is irrational," She said, but it sounded more like a question

"Yeah, Bones, love is irrational," He agreed, moving to stand next to her, "Sometimes it makes people do stupid things."

He expected her to argue with him or launch into some big speech about how love was just some excuse for people to be terrible to each other and get away with it, but she said nothing. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not; she usually had some argument for him.

"You don't."

Her voice was so soft that he nearly missed it. As it was, he heard her words but was puzzled by their meaning.

"I don't what?" He asked

She locked eyes with him, her brilliant blue orbs searing him straight to the core. There was an intensity in her gaze that nearly frightened him.

"You don't do stupid things."

"I try not to," He corrected her, still confused

"But you told Sully that you loved me."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. Everything that had been said in the last ten minutes and that's what she remembered? Booth cursed himself inwardly. He hadn't really meant to say that aloud, but Sully had been throwing accusations at him and he'd just snapped back.

"Uh, maybe we should have this conversation later, Bones."

"Why?" She asked

"I'm not entirely sure what you and Sully were arguing over, but I'm sure you guys can move past it."

The words almost stuck in his throat as he said them. His heart ached to think that Sully shared any kind of romantic relationship with her, especially after the recent events. He would never say those things to her - why couldn't she see that?

"Move past it? What are you talking about, Booth?"

He cocked his head to the side in a curious fashion.

"Well, I assumed that you were just, ya know, having a lover's quarrel or something."

"That would require Sully and I to be lovers," She observed

"Well, yeah, Bones."

"Sully and I aren't lovers."

"You're … not?" He asked, pulse quickening

"Of course not. Why did you assume that we would be?"

Booth wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that. He didn't want to offend her or get into a debate over her views on monogamy, so he needed to be tactful with his answer.

"I just thought … well, you know, you were on good terms when he left."

"We were. He's been gone for two years, Booth. That is a sufficient amount of time for entropy to …"

"You're losing me, Bones."

"A lot changes in two years."

He made no reply, and she did not elaborate. The office was silent as they observed each other; the space separating them was no more than a foot, but neither of them moved.

Booth strained to make sense of her words. So many explanations existed, so many conclusions could be drawn … was she trying to tell him that she wasn't interested in Sully anymore? A flicker of hope danced in his heart at the thought. He tried not to let it take root, telling himself that just because she didn't want to be with Sully that didn't mean she wanted to be with him.

"Did you mean it? When you said you loved me, did you mean it?"

She couldn't have asked him a more difficult question. He knew the answer without thinking, but he wondered at how it would be received. He thought about lying, but found that he couldn't. Here was Bones, asking him for an answer, trusting him to be honest. A lie would no doubt be easier - hell, making light of the situation would be easier - but she had that look on her face. The look that told him that she trusted him, that there was more resting on his answer than he knew. Who was he to deny her? Better yet, when had he ever been able to deny her?

"Yes," He said finally, softly, "I meant it."

"How?"

"What?" He blurted

"I asked how. Do you love me like a sister? Like a partner? Or like Angela says you do?"

"How does Angela say it?" He asked, curious

"She says that you love me like a fish loves water."

At that, Booth couldn't help but to chortle. Angela the Artist, as talented (and poetic) with words as she was with a paintbrush.

"Why do you laugh? Is Angela wrong?"

He was amazed to see her face fall with the last question. She actually looked upset at the idea, and he was aware of just how upset when she dropped her gaze and looked away from him. That flicker of hope he'd ignored flared into a raging fire at the gesture, and the beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. All hope was not lost.

"Sweetie, are you okay? I heard yelling …"

Booth looked away from his partner to see Angela hurrying in the door, but her steps fell short when she saw him. She looked like she was about to say something else, but Booth ignored her and turned his attention back to Bones. He didn't care if the entire museum was gathered at the door - this moment was his.

"Temperance," Her name rolled off his tongue like the sweetest honey, "Look at me."

He gave her no chance to deny his request. He placed a gentle, hooked finger under her chin and raised her face to his. Her crystalline eyes met his, and he couldn't resist stroking her alabaster cheek with his thumb.

"You don't ever have to hide from me. Angela's right: I love you like a fish loves water, like a dying man loves air. I love you more than any man has ever loved a woman. Angela's the poetic one; I'm just a simple man, telling the woman he can't live without how much he loves her."

Afraid that she would resist him, he punctuated his confession with a gentle and unassuming kiss. When he pulled away and glanced back at her face, he found that her eyes were glittering with unshed tears.

"And you're wrong," He continued, "I have done stupid things in the name of love - I was just careful not to let you see."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" She finally asked, her voice trembling

"I know you, Bones. There's no rushing you. I knew you'd find your way eventually, all I had to do was wait."

"I think I knew," She told him, her eyes searching his face, "I think I've known for awhile. But I was - I am so afraid of what it all means …"

"I know you are. There's no pressure here - the ball is in your court."

"We're not on a court, Booth."

He outright laughed at that.

"Just an expression, Bones. I mean that I don't expect anything. Whatever you decide, that's how it will be."

He refused to think about how much it would hurt when she said that she didn't want to be with him. He refused to think about how hard it was going to be to see her with another man, all the while knowing that no one loved her the way he did. He swore that as long as she was happy, he would be content. Her happiness meant more to him than his own.

"Seeley," She said evenly, and he knew what was coming, "I'm not sure I can say those words."

He nodded solemnly.

"At least, not yet," She continued, "But I can say that I want to be with you. Not just as partners, but as lovers."

The shock coursed through him with the force of a hurricane wind. His thoughts skittered to a halt only to take off again in the next second, the virtual gears of his mind grinding together in an effort to keep up. He had prepared himself for every possibility, save this one. He had steeled his heart against the pain, only to find that the effort was wasted.

"You … do?" He faltered

"Yes. I care about you more than I can say."

He searched her face, that beautiful face that he'd come to memorize in their years together. Her expression was tender and sincere, one of her rarely unguarded moments that he treasured. She may not be able to say the words, but he didn't need to hear them to see he love radiating from her eyes. The words had not left her mouth, but she'd been showing him how much she loved him for awhile. She'd let him into her heart, she'd trusted him with her fear and her pain. For Bones, that was nearly the same thing. She had let her guard down for him, let him get close enough to see the cracks in her armor. He knew that she loved him; he was a patient man, and he could wait to hear those words.

"You really wanna be with me?" He asked

"Yes, Booth," and she laughed for the first time since he'd been there, "Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno, because you're a genius maybe."

He grinned and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face. She stepped into him, closing the gap between them in a single step. He wrapped his arms around her slight frame and kissed the crown of her head. Her hair smelled delicious, just as he remembered from those nights she'd fallen asleep in his arms. They stayed that way for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes. Bones was the one to pull away first; when she did, he saw a small smile pulling at her lips.

"Wasn't Angela in here?"

Booth wanted to groan aloud at just the thought. He really didn't want to see the look on her face, that look that she'd perfected when she was right about something. Her expression was almost as bad as the one Bones used. With some trepidation, he threw a glance over his shoulder at the door. Angela was nowhere in sight. He made a mental note to thank her later.

"She must have left."

"I guess."

She took a single step backward, and he missed the feeling of her in his arms. He was comforted, however, by the thought that it wouldn't be the last time they shared an embrace.

"Booth," She began, her demeanor business like once more

"Don't worry, Bones, it's not going to affect our work," he assured her

"How did you know I was going to say that?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I just know you."

She gave him a dazzling smile that he returned. This was certainly not how he'd seen his morning unfolding. It wasn't even ten A.M. yet and so much had changed for him. He was elated, still hardly able to believe how lucky he was. Just when he'd thought all hope was lost, when he thought Temperance Brennan was lost to him, she'd come to him willingly. His literal years of patience had finally paid off the way he'd always hoped they would. They still had obstacles, he knew, and the going would be slow; none of which really mattered, because they would be together. A place for everything and everything in its place, his mom used to say. He could wait.

"Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"It's your turn to cook dinner."

He laughed. Oh yes, he could wait; he was a very patient man.

* * *

**_Author's Note (Again): I know some of you really wanted Booth to punch Sully - I did too! But I thought it was more true to his character that he wouldn't, because he tries to be as non violent as he can. Also, I thought about having Bones say I love you back, but it just didn't feel right. She admitted that to herself, and that she wanted to be more than friends to Booth; baby steps! Also, in the season 4 finale, she asks him if he loves her, but she never says it back (or at all for that matter). I don't think that detracts from how she feels though: I think she loves him completely. So yeah ... the end. :)_**


End file.
